


Affirmation

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Confessions, Developing Relationship, Holding Hands, Inline with canon, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Plot/Plotless, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: "Inui has won, has shut the book on his past and held open the path to Seigaku’s future at one and the same time, and he is happy to hand the next battle over to the teammates who will bring them to the conclusion of the tournament." Inui confirms a prediction in the aftermath of his fight against Rikkaidai in the Kanto Tournament.
Relationships: Inui Sadaharu/Kaidou Kaoru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Affirmation

Inui is exhausted.

He can feel fatigue thrumming through his body, trembling at his fingertips and quivering in his thighs with the promise of the aching stiffness that will come tomorrow. His muscles are beginning to throb already, humming with the lactic acid that he has accumulated over the length of the game that so dominated his focus he had none left to spare to note the passage of time or the slow slide of the sun across the sky. The match against Renji required his full attention, every fragment of data he has ever accumulated and every shred of the hard-won strength he has built over marathon training sessions; its conclusion has swept his mind clear, all his calculations and plans erased by the victory finally granted to him by nothing more than simple luck. Inui has won, has shut the book on his past and held open the path to Seigaku’s future, and he is happy to hand the next battle over to the teammates who will bring them to the conclusion of the tournament.

There is joy waiting for him, arms flung out into surging enthusiasm before he has even persuaded his numb legs to bear him up the few steps to join the rest of the team in the stands. Momoshiro is shouting, his eyes bright and smile beaming; Fuji is smiling with the certainty of their eventual victory that he has carried like a good-luck charm the whole of the match. Even Echizen is smiling while forgetting to hide it, his face turned up to the light as he watches Inui with no trace of the bored disrespect he offered when they played against each other in his first ranking match.

“Good job!” Kawamura declares, and “We’re still in the game,” Ouishi tells Inui. It’s only the slide of his gaze back over Inui’s shoulder that offers enough warning for Inui to brace himself before Kikumaru’s weight slams into his back and knocks him nearly off his feet. Kikumaru wraps arms and legs around Inui, clinging to him as he bubbles over with effusive happiness, and Inui feels his exhausted legs shaking with the effort of bearing Kikumaru’s weight in addition to his own. It’s only for a moment, a cacophony of congratulations and relief and joy in equal parts; then Fuji is turning aside, and the rest of the team shifts to follow his lead. Kikumaru lets Inui go as readily as he seized him, landing lightly on his feet before darting sideways and around him to fall into step with Ouishi, and Inui straightens and reaches to adjust his glasses before he turns his head to look at the last member of Seigaku.

Kaidou has been standing silent at the back of the group, his shoulders tense and mouth set. He said nothing during Fuji’s polite congratulations, held back from adding his voice to the maelstrom of enthusiasm that briefly swallowed all possibility of coherency from their team, but the tight press of his lips together has achieved no restraint at all for the light shining in his eyes with such brilliance that Inui could hardly stand to look at him with the rest of their teammates so immediately around them. But they are pulling aside, drawn in the wake of Fuji’s deliberate and considerate retreat, and with their attention moving to the upcoming match Inui and Kaidou are briefly freed from any audience at all.

Inui looks at Kaidou’s face, at the bright of his eyes and the tension quivering speechless at his mouth. He looks as shaky as Inui feels, formless adrenaline doing for him what fatigue has done to Inui, as if his knees might be about to give out from under him and drop him to the cement of the step on which he’s standing. But he doesn’t look afraid, doesn’t look panicked: he looks illuminated, sunbright radiance spilling from behind his eyes until Inui feels his face warm in the glow of such obviously adoring affection.

Inui is exhausted, his entire body quivering with fatigue; but his smile is effortless, curving across his face in instinctive reply to the glow in Kaidou’s eyes. “I heard you cheer for me,” he says. “Thank you. You turned the odds in my favor.”

Kaidou stares at Inui for a moment, his eyes still wide with that intensity of devotion that has kept him on his feet for the whole of Inui’s match, that carried the shout of  _ Inui-senpai _ to such perfect clarity over the ocean-wave roar of the spectators in the midst of the game. Then he ducks his head, his gaze dipping down as his hair falls in front of his face; and he smiles, giving up the strained tension at his lips to a sudden curve of softness. It eases all the habitual tension from his face, smoothing away the crease between his brows and the stern set of his jaw before he lifts his chin to offer the full tenderness of his expression to the light, and to Inui.

“Senpai,” he says, just that one word a novel of appreciation, and he lifts his hand to offer the weight of the towel he has been clutching at his side. It’s a simple gesture; as simple as the motion of Inui raising his hand to reach out and clasp his hold around Kaidou’s fingers. Kaidou blinks, his gaze flickering to Inui’s hand atop his for a moment before looking back up to return the softness of his smile to the other’s face.

Inui breathes out a sigh. “Kaidou,” he says, and he takes a step closer without letting go of his hold. Kaidou’s lashes flutter, his mouth goes soft, and as Inui reaches to wrap his arm around the other’s shoulders Kaidou leans forward to collapse against the support of Inui’s chest. His head comes past Inui’s shoulder with the aid of the step on which he’s standing, and Inui grips at Kaidou’s far shoulder with his free hand and gusts an exhale against the weight of the other’s hair. “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

Inui can feel Kaidou’s whole body go tense against his own, tightening on instant shock at the import of his words. Under his touch Kaidou’s shoulder shifts; against his palm the other’s fingers clench convulsively against the towel he’s still holding. Inui waits, wondering about predictions, thinking of calculations, ready to let go at the first motion Kaidou makes towards retreat. For a moment Kaidou stays like that, fixed to stasis by his own panicked surprise; and then Inui feels the fingers under his loosen, feels the shoulders under his arm ease. Kaidou’s hand lifts from his side, reaching out to hover for a moment at Inui’s waist; and then it lands, and Inui feels the shudder that runs through Kaidou even before he hears the sharp exhale of relief at his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Kaidou says. He turns his head down, ducking forward so his forehead presses to Inui’s shoulder and his face is hidden by the shadow of his hair, but Inui is still close enough to hear the mumble of the words pressed to the front of his shirt. “Me—me too, senpai.”

The rest of the tournament is still ahead of them, the war for the championship still a single loss away from failure. But Inui tightens his hold, and smiles into Kaidou’s bandana, and lets himself savor the accuracy of his own private predictions.


End file.
